


Demons Don't Dream Sweet

by Rainbownomja



Series: Writers Month 2019 Prompts [12]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has PTSD (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley's Fall (Good Omens), Crowley's Nightmares, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Crowley, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Its a problem when it comes to good nightmare fuel, Living Together, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No beta we fall like Crowley, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Post-Canon, Scared Crowley (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbownomja/pseuds/Rainbownomja
Summary: Crowley sleeps, a lot. But its rare for him to have a pleasant dream





	Demons Don't Dream Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Writers Month Prompt: Dreams
> 
> 🎶Sweet dreams are(n't) mAde of thiss. Who am I to disAgreee. 🎶
> 
> 🎶Some of them wAnt to aBUsee youuuu. 🎶

Crowley didn’t tend to dream so much as have nightmares. Many were easy enough to dissuade. But others, well that was a separate story. One of the milder ones was simple. It was an amalgamation of Hell, and its punishments. 

***

It felt darker Below than Crowley thought it was meant to be. Or maybe that was the lack of sun which he’d never needed to miss before. Bodies were packed together, each one brushing and pulling and leaving behind a trail of slime or grime. Pairs of eyes were giving him the side stare as his clothing stayed neat and tidy and his demonic feature remained hidden under sunglasses. Some of the shoulders that brushed against him were not brushes at all, but shoves that narrowly avoided toppling him over. If he fell it was a guarantee that he got trampled to discorperation. 

Crowley followed the buzz to Beelzebub's corridor, which reeked heavily of hell fire and decay. Upon entry it was impossible to miss the piles of goop that used to be demons. Horns or hair or other such contents were soaked in melted flesh and bone. Inky blood shifted from the floor and into his nostrils. 

“Prince Beelzebub.” He murmured from the doorway. 

“Hurry up and come in.” They replied, eyes glued to a stack of paperwork. The closer he got the more he could make out the red ink that circled every instance of his name. “Care to explain.” 

Photos of him beside Aziraphale, of him with the children of Noah’s Ark, of him performing less than evil miracles. Holy water buzzed off his skin and he turned around. Suddenly his glasses were shattered, glass stuck into his cheeks. The room was pitch black, nobody was there anymore, and the floor hissed.  The first touch of holy water on his shoes always jolted him awake.

***

Other nightmares included The Fall. 

Atop a dark storm cloud Crowley balanced against the press of God’s weight leaning into his back. Behind him Angels sniggered, he could make out the sound of Aziraphale among them. He wasn’t sure why that hurt more than the idea of burning alive. 

Then he was among the stars, careening past them, their caress scarring his skin. His wings shed feathers in droves, enough to blanket the sky, below the animals wondered where the light had gone, it’d never gone before. But the worst part, was the burning. His skin, his blood, his bones. Everything burned, and cracked, and shattered under the weight of eternity. There was no end to the fall, no crashing into Below. Just agony. 

It took much longer to wake up from that one.

***

The worst of all however, had little to do with him at all. 

His flat was dark, the comfort of warmth long gone from beside him. Padding towards the crack of light in the doorway, he searched for Aziraphale. It was too late when he found him. 

In the center of the living room was the light, but it was not from a lamp. No it was fire that crackled as it ate away at the plush carpet and bookshelves miracle just for the angel. In the center of his home, were angels. Gabriel and Micheal, and worse still Hastur, with flames licking at his palms. Pure white feathers plagued the floor, blood dripping from the barbs. And trapped in the middle of it all, was Aziraphale. 

His eyes were swollen shut, wounds lined his perfect face. His hands and feet were tied with something that felt hellish but Crowley would never be able to identify it. 

“How kind of you to join us.” Gabriel said. 

A cry could never leave his mouth before he heard the shriek of his angel. Watched his flesh degrade, and eyes ooze onto the floor. He could never move, only watch him die. 

***

“Guh-” Crowley gasped, his chest heaving with labored breaths. Tears streaked down his face, not that he noticed. For a moment his ears rang, he could feel nothing, see nothing, hear nothing.  Until a warm hand brushed against his own. 

“Again?” Aziraphale murmured, his book discarded beside him. Crowley couldn’t respond as his eyes adjusted. The cottage, their bedroom, Aziraphale. Their cottage, their bedroom, Aziraphale. He nodded, collapsing against Aziraphale’s chest. “It’s alright dear. There are no other sides here.” His palm ran soft circles against Crowley's back. 

Crowley would find Aziraphale’s heartbeat every time, listen to it drone with a steady rhythm. He’d listen to him breathe without trouble, feel his skin to make sure he was real. Then, more often than not, Aziraphale told him a story until he fell back asleep, safe and free from the clutches of their old life. 

A true dream come true if you asked him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my work please leave me a comment and a kudos I love to hear from y'all. 
> 
> Want to keep up with my work? Follow me on Tumblr @AvalonPendragonWrites
> 
> See you tomorrow!


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